
Gtas-JES - }7 



Book 



H 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



CASTLES IN SPAIN 

AND OTHER SKETCHES IN RHYME 



BY 
WINIFRED SACKVILLE-STONER. 



THE 

Bbbcy press 

PUBLISHERS 
114 
FIFTH AVENUE 

XonDon new YORK /Montreal 



THF LIBRARY OF 
0CNQftES8. 

Two Co«M Receive? 

JAN. 27 1902 

OrvmOHT ENTRY 

ICLA9S ti XXc. No. 

copy a 



7535-37 

■+C3 



Copyright, 1901, 

by 

WINIFRED SACK.VILLE-STONER. 






AS A TOKEN OF LOVE 
TO HIM 

WHO HAS INSPIRED THESE THOUGHTS 

THIS LITTLE VOLUME 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 



CONTENTS. 



PACK 

Absent Yet Present 69 

Adios 3 8 

Adoration 5° 

A Love Affair Among the Flowers 34 

A Naughty Angel 2 9 

An Angel of Love 9 1 

A Woman's Power 99 

Between the Lines 46 

Brotherhood 7 6 

Castles in Spain 9 

Christmas Morning • • &S 

Comfort 37 

Constancy 3° 

Eileen, My Queen 22 

Farewell 63 

Forget Thee ? iS 

Friendship 60 

From Heart to Heart 25 

George Washington 90 

Greeting 96 

He Giveth His Beloved Sleep 67 

Humanity 61 

Imogene 3? 

I Sing to Thee Alone 47 

Je Vous Aime 5 2 

L'Amitie 68 

L'Amour Vrai 77 

L'Exile '5 

5 



6 Contents. 

PAGE 

Love 14 

1 ,ove's Patientie 19 

m.i 1 v's Sweetheart 93 

Misfortune Sometimes Gain 40 

Mv Debl "i 1 iOve 15 

m y Mandolin 1 2 

Papa Nation's Song 57 

Pauline's Questions 87 

Sorrow foi a Loved One 31 

Sunrise and Sunset 66 

iv, 1, h Me, Little Child 70 

The Burial ol the Heroes oi the Maine, 11 

The Cause foi Bacheloi Mauls 59 

The Charge oi .1 Nation 54 

The ( Ihild 1 Avers 19 

The < Children of the Tuileries 73 

Tin' Immortality of Love 32 

The < >ld Folk's Plaint 27 

The New Yeai 65 

The Queen's Birthday 78 

The Real Santa Claus 81 

Tin- Rose [mmortal 51 

The Sick 1 >oll 84 

The Soldier's Farewell 75 

The Song oi the Season 71 

rii<- True Home Maker 11 

The Wanderer's * Ihristmas 53 

To Marie 79 

To My Babies 94 

Two Broken Ribs \J& 

You 1 ove Mi- (Not) 80 

What is Love? 4- 

When Someone < roes Away foi the Day 28 

When We Said " Good Night " at the Gate 16 



Gbouflfots in IDcrsc, 



CASTLES IN SPAIN. 



Castles in Spain. 

On, beautiful "Castles in Spain," 

In aerial kingdoms fair, 
Evolved from the teeming brain 

Of childhood untroubled by eare. 
There are dollies and sweetmeats galore, 

And never a soul to restrain, 
By saying, " You cannol have: more," 

In those beautiful "Castles in Spain." 

In the castles of maidenhood's dreams 
The fairest of visions dwell — 

Of music, and books, and sunbeams, 
And handsome young lovers, who tell 

Each other the story so old, 
Yet always so new told again, 



[o Castles in Spain. 

Of love thai shall never grow cold 
In those beautiful "Castles in Spain." 

Young motherhood's dreams just as tender 

For the dear life she clasps to her breast, 
Find expression in castles of splendor, 

With honor the principal guesl ; 
Where never the shadow of wrong 

Her Loved one's escutcheon shall slain, 
Bui honest and valiant and strong 

lie shall dwell in her Castle in Spain. 

Oh, how those brighl visions relieve 

The humdrum or sadness of life, 
And sweeten the sorrows thai grieve 

The hearts of (hose vanquished in strife 
With the world, where only those win, 

Who are deaf to the moanings of pain, 
God help those so sodden within 

Thai they cannot build "Castles in 
Spain." 



The True Home-Maker. n 



Uhc TTruc 1bome*flfoaftet\ 

Ah, true love is as a glorious day 

When the robins sing in the month of 

May ; 
'Tis free from fear and it conquers sorrow 
And has no thought of the coming morrow. 

Give me the sweet maid with the lovelit 

eye, 
Witli her I would live, with her I would 

die, 
For she who loves truly brings peace and 

rest 
To home, that dear spot we all love the 

best. 



12 Castles in Spain. 



fll>\? /iDanfcolin. 

It rains and the complaining wind 

Sighs dismally without, 
And melancholy thoughts my mind 

Becloud and till with doubt — 
Within, without, a threatening night ;- 

Tis then I seek my mandolin 

To dissipate the clouds within ; 
To put my gloomy thoughts to flight. 

My attic room, so small and bare, 
Grows Large and spacious quite, 

The walls adorned with paintings rare, 
And tapestries most bright, 

Created by the magic spell 
Of sweetest tuneful witchery, 
That far be3'ond the restless sea 

Bears me to scenes I love so well. 

Now tender tones of love arise 
In melody divine, 



My Mandolin. 13 

The love that thrives 'neath sunny skies, 
But shivers in this clime, 

The land of wintry wind and snow 

Where men strive most for yellow gold, 
And everything is bought and sold 

And blood flows sluggishly and slow. 

Then brighter, quicker moves the strain 

As if fair maidens gay 
Sang joyously some bright refrain 

And danced their merry lay, 
As only southern maidens dance 
With care, abandon, easy grace, 

With laughter rippling every face 

And witchery in every glance, 

Again the merry music done, 

I hear the sounds of day, 
The heavy carts that one by one 

Pursue their rumbling way ; 
And footsteps hastening to the mart, 

Where merchandise and men are sold 

And where the greed for gold makes 
cold 
The warmest impulse of the heart. 



14 Castles in Spain. 



On love thou touchesl with thy wand 
Things base, transforming them to things 
Divine; by magic spell, the dreary task 
Becomes a joy and darkness light. 
Despair yields hope, transfigured are 
All common things with heavenly sheen, 

Ami Life is desolate no more ; 
In loving one I learn to love 
All n. ilme, animate or still, 

But most of all, sweet love, thyself, 

Who touched my eyelids with thy wand 
That 1 might see (Ik- lovely soul, 

Deep hid beneath these outward eharms, 
And freed from bonds of outward sense 
Be held enthralled by sense within. 



L'Exile. 15 



%'jExfle. 

1 love Italia's sunny skies, 

Where fruitsand maidens ripen young- 
Dark in;ii(Is, whose deep and soulful eyes 

ll;ivc hearl of many a Northern wrung. 

I love, too, gay lighl hearted France, 
1 love the lazy, drowsy Seine : 

I love to set- the maidens dance 
The dark-browed maids of Spain. 

Hut still, unsatislied, my heart, 

As o'er the world I roam, 
Seeks her, from whom the seas me part — 

Pari from my love- and home. 

Yet swirl the sorrow, sweel the pain — 

Yea, sweet with love thai heals ; 
Thai memory gone were loss, no! gain, 
For gone, too, heaven that love reveals. 



1 6 Castles in Spain. 



Mben we $atfc "(3oofc*niabt" at Ube 
©ate. 

The evening was cold and the sky was 
clear 
But beat my heart at a fearful rate, 
I knew not whether from joy or fear 
When we said " Good-night " at the 
gate. 
I placed my arm where it ought to be, 

Around the waist of my darling Kate ; 
She feigned to be shocked and tried to 
flee 
When we said " Good-night " at the 
gate. 

But I held her tight as a bold man should 

Determined to settle forever my fate, 
And she faintly protested " Please, be 
good," 
When we said " Good-night" at the 
gate. 



When we Said " Good-Night. 17 

Then rashly I stole from her a sweet kiss 
And struggling she cried, " Good-night, 
it's so late." 
Then held up her mouth for another, Oh, 
bliss ! 
When we said " Good-night " at the 
gate. 



i8 Castles in Spain. 



jForoct Ubcc ? 

An didst thou think I could forget thee, 
Or the lightest word of thine, 

Whatever worldly cares may fret me 
1, forget that soul divine ? 

No, dear one, 1 can ne'er forget thee, 
For thy portrait's on my heart, 

And wherever the fates may lead me, 
Love, from thee I'll never part. 

Even in death, I will be with thee, 
Since my soul is joined to thine, 

And the grave can never part me 
From the love I know is mine. 

This life at best is only dreaming 

And your memory all that's true, 
It fills my heart with joy-beams streaming 

Through the cloud-drifts straight from 
you. 



Love's Patience. 19 



Xovc's patience* 

There is no hopelessness in love 
Thai has no passion, nor desire 

Unholy — but kindled from above 
I'.nrns steady with eelestial lire. 

Though now rejected, unrequited, 
Or hid unknown within the breast, 

Somewhere -sometime when all isrighted 
That love shall bring the longed-for 
rest. 

What matters time—a thousand years, 
With such assurance in the- heart, 

How foolish heart-aches, secret tears, 
If sometime met, we ne'er shall part. 

E'en now my soul o'er thine al night 
E'er hovers with protecting care, 

Inspiring visions, fair and bright, 
Inspiring dreams as light as air. 



20 Castles in Spain. 

And while engaged the busy day 
Through subtle agency unknown, 

Thy thought unspoken speeds its way 
From thy sweet mind unto mine own. 

Let fools and knaves to win consent 
Bend all their energies, while I, 

With lower conquest discontent, 
By force of love itself will try. 

For prize no less than spotless soul 
To keep it spotless till it shine 

Resplendent in the years that roll 
Unceasingly then rightly mine. 

Nor let the thought abhorrent be, 
For changed by love that beautifies 

When shed this chrysalis there free 
My soul laid bare before thine eyes 

Shall then compel thy love, perchance, 
When others, although comely here, 

Deprived of outward circumstance, 
Unlovely and deformed appear. 



Love's Patience. 

Thus shall my love again exalt 

My soul, long since cast down from 
Heaven 
By selfish pride and other fault 

That curses man when passion-driven. 






Castles m Spain. 



Eileen, /iim? Queen* 

I love l > 1 1 1 thee, I > 1 1 i iIk'i-, 

My Queen ; 

II only thou couldsl see, 

My Queen, 
l low deep love's dai i 
1 1. iih pierced my heai t, 

l ween 
Some rutli thou'dsl feel for me. 



I ion!-, for thee, for thee, 
My Queen ; 

Willi grieJ too deep to be, 
My Queen ; 

To othei s shown 

By tear or moan ! 
i fnseen, 

i long, i gi ieve for thee. 

I live for thee, for thee, 
My Queen ; 



Eileen, My Queen. 

Ami ihi ough etei nil v, 
Mv Queen, 

This sweetesl di earn 

Shall be my i heme 
Eileen 

My only theme shall be. 

I sing to thee, <<> thee, 
My Queen, 

And I hough ii may not !>»• 
My Queen, 

Thai thou will * ai e 

I'll noi despah , 
Eileen, 

I '.iii evei wail lor thee. 



n 



I woo Ixii thee, l»ni thee, 
My Queen, 

And pi ay I hal thou will be 
My Queen. 

y\< i epl my love 

Senl from above, 
Eileen, 

To bring iiiy soul i<> me, 



• i Castles in Spain. 

I'd <lic foi thee, loi thee, 
My ( lueen, 

ll thou would:. i i < « l loi me, 
Mv < fueen, 

Thai spark divine 

Thy soul and mine, 
Eileen, 

In bliss i"i e'ei would in-. 



(This poem has been sel to music by the 
authoi and published as .« ballad,) 



From I [eai I to I [eart. 25 



jfrom ibcart to Ibcart. 

Oh, dear is the memory of thai summer 

evening, 
lis stillness reflecting our silen< e pro 

found, 
When we, only two, seemed the whole ol 

existence, 

And needed not aid Ol ai iieiihle sound, 

l'"oi love's subtle language <>m thoughts 

did imp, 11 1 

From hearl f<> heart, from heaii to heart. 

The |oy ol . iiit 1 lion, bestowing its 1 [< h 
ness 
In profusion unstinted, unbounded, on 
me, 
W;is only excelled by the pleasure, ol 
giving 
My own greatesl measure of love unto 
thee, 



26 Castles in Spain. 

And thus we conversed till thou hadst to 
depart, 
From heart to heart, from heart to heart. 

But now thou art absent in far distant 
country, 
An ocean between us and many broad 
lands, 
And though in my soul there is ever a 
longing 
To see thee, and kiss thee, and clasp thy 
dear hands, 
Our love speeds across with invincible art, 
From heart to heart, from heart to 
heart. 

No power on earth is sufficient to sever 

A union so subtle, and truly divine, 
Though death should remove thee, and 
leave me in sorrow 
Thy heart will be mine and my heart 
will be thine, 
Our thoughts will through infinite distance 
still dart, 
From heart to heart, from heart to heart, 



The Old Folk's Plaint. 27 



Ube ©15 folk's plaint 

Oh, the weary hours of waiting, 

Waiting anxiously to hear, 
From our loved one at a distance, 

In suspense 'twixt hope and fear. 
Is she well ? or has some illness 

Touched her with its sad'ning blight ? 
How we wish we knew the reason 

Why our darling does not write, 

Can it be that she forgets us, 

In the busy city's whirl ? 
God forbid that we should harbor, 

Doubt of our dear little girl. 
There's the postman — but he passes, 

Passes quickly from the sight, 
How we wish we knew the reason, 

Why our darling does not write. 



28 Castles in Spain. 



Mben "Someone" <3oes Hwa^ 

When " Someone " goes away for the day 
The sunshine beams less warm and 
bright, 

For he takes so much of the sun away, 
What's left is by comparison slight, 

When " Someone " goes away for the day. 

When " Someone " goes away for the day, 
The moments drag and the hours are 
slow, 

And move with the most annoying delay 
And I wish from my heart he wouldn't 

go, 
When " Someone " goes away for the day. 

When " Someone " goes away for the day, 

I feel as if everything else had gone 
That is sweet and pleasant and joyous and 

gay, 
And my heart is lonely and oh, forlorn, 
When " Someone " goes away for the day. 



A Naughty Angel. 29 



H 1Raugbt£ UrxQcL 

I KNOW a naughty girl, 

And she's an angel, too, 
Who sets my head awhirl, 

( So wicked is this girl), 
With glances that pierce me through, 

And yet she's an angel too. 

Her cheek with crimson glows, 
As laughing she turns away ; 

And I really think she knows 

(For her cheek with crimson glows) 

What I am longing to say, 

When laughing she turns away. 

Oh, how I wish I could guess, 

What answer to me she would give, 

If now I should dare to confess, 

(From her manner I never could 
guess) 

That for her and her only I live, 
I wonder what answer she'd give ? 



30 Castles in Spain. 



Constancy?. 

Thy heart again will turn to mine, 

Thou hast for me no passing thought ; 

Thy thoughts to others now incline, 
Yet in thy moments sorrow fraught 

Thy heart again will turn to mine. 

Thy heart again will turn to mine, 

Though wealth and station draw away, 

Thy mind from me, that soul divine 
Dissatisfied will be some day ; 

Thy heart again will turn to mine. 

Thy heart again will turn to mine ; 

Thy love deceptive senses steal, 
From me ; yet why should I repine ? 

When Heaven shall the soul reveal, 
Thy heart again will turn to mine. 



Sorrow for a Loved One. 31 



Sorrow for a Xorco @ne. 

The sky is dull, without a lull, 

The wind moans dismally ; 
The clouds are weeping, their mood in 
keeping, 

With griefs that compass me. 

My love lies ill and sad and still, 
Who once, with movement free, 

With easy grace and smiling face, 
Ran with my heart from me. 

Lost sight of you, my heart lost too — 

Ah, me, can I endure ? 
But yet bereft not, though love is left not, 

Still hope remains secure. 



32 Castles in Spain. 



XTbe flmmortalftv? of %ov>e. 

Did'st thon love but that sparkling eye, 
That stately form, that youthful bloom, 

So beautiful, yet made to die. 

To give the soul expanding room, 

That unconsoled thou grievest still, 
To part, nor yieldest to God's will. 

Alas, poor child, immersed in sense, 
Thy loss indeed cannot be measured ; 

For thee there is no recompense, 

Since thou has but the casket treasured, 

And not the jewel or thy heart, 

Would know that loving souls ne'er 
part. 

Not all the force on earth unjust, 
Of laws or outward circumstance, 

Or yet of death — to whom all dust, 
At last surrenders — if, perchance, 

Two souls be wedded, can remove, 
Them from companionship in love. 



The Immortality of Love. 33 

All outward barriers are as naught, 
For love is not of time or plaee, 

But finds its object with a thought, 
So mighty that it fills all space, 

And comfort, peace, protection lends, 

The one who gives, the one who sends. 
3 



34 Castles in Spain. 



H Xove Hffair Bmono tbc jflowcrs. 

" How beautiful you are," once said 

The lily to the rose, 
" I wish my color was as red, 

As that which on you glows." 

The rose grows redder still with pleasure, 

And whispers soft reply, 
" Your color pure more precious treas- 
ure, 

To me would be, think I." 

The lily pale then gently bent, 

Her head the rose to kiss, 
Reflecting back the Hush that lent, 

The rose of perfect bliss. 



Imogene. 35 



Ifmogene, 

Sad songs of woe the weird wind weaves, 

And murmur sweet and low 
In tender sympathy the leaves 

And tinkling brook below. 

For Imogene no longer strays 

Beneath the grateful shade, 
Her eyes illumined by the rays 

Of love-light— half afraid. 

The listening flowers and brook and trees, 

Her secret should divine, 
And then the idle, tattling breeze 

To publish it incline. 

Funeral songs the weird wind weaves, 

The dirge of broken hearts ; 
In strain in which it always grieves 

For souls when torn apart. 



36 Castles in Spain. 

Yet faintly, sweetly, from afar 
There breathes another strain, 

" In spite of every earthly bar 
Your souls can ne'er be twain. 

"When welcome Death with icy finger 

Unlocks thy prison door, 
Your souls will not an instant linger 

Till met to part no more." 



Comfort. 37 



Comfort* 

Agonized soul, a word of peace 
All sentient life the same endures. 
In kind, though not in same degree, 
The lower forms but feel some loss 
Immediate, while others higher up 
The scale, more delicately fashioned, 
Respond to finer notes of joy or woe. 
The discords that musicians make 
In searching for the key, soon end 
In harmony profound, if but 
The strings withstand and do not break. 



38 Castles in Spain. 



BM05. 

A whistle, a throb, and the steamer 
moves 
Away from the dock with its living 
freight. 
I wonder il any one leaves all he loves, 
lake me and despairingly curses his 
fate ? 

For all seem gay, and happy, and free 
From my shadow of sorrow, that's ever 
nigh ; 
But each one with smiles, it may be, like 
me 
Is hiding his sadness from curious eye. 

My darling, my loved one, think some- 
times of me, 



Adios. 39 

For a kind thought of thine will in- 
stantly speed 
From thy soul to mine, how wide so 
e'er be 
The distance dividing by grim fate 
decreed. 



40 Castles in Spain, 



Misfortune Sometimes Cain. 

A beautiful and fragrant rose, 

A rose of richer red 
Than others in the garden grows, 

And gayly nods her head. 

In playful mood by zephyrs kissed, 

Until the rough, unkind 
Storm wind replaced the zephyrs missed 

To render sport inclined; 

And tossed poor rose from side to side 

Till prostrate all she fell, 
There she was found at eventide 

By one who loved her well. 

1 le lifted her most tenderly 

And set in place secure 
From rough winds* fingers ever tree 

To drink the sunlight pure. 



Misfortune Sometimes Gain. 41 

Thus her misfortune proved her gain, 
For had she been but stronger, 

And able to withstand the strain, 
She must have done so longer. 



42 Castles in Spain. 



WLbat is %ovc ? 

" I Love you, dear," the youth declared. 

The maiden smiled and gently said, 
" I know not love— what is it, pray ? " 

Then shrank away in nameless fear. 

" My love," said he, " is fierce desire 
To call my own those charms of thine, 

That hair, those lips, that glorious eye, 
That form — to know that all is mine." 

" 1 like not love," the maid demurred : 
" It fills my shrinking heart with fear. 

I fear, I fear, 1 know not what; 

Don't speak of love again, my dear." 

"I love you, dear," he said again, 
When time had streaked his raven hair. 

II And what is love ? " the woman asked, 

" I've found it not— sought everywhere," 



What is Love ? 43 

" My love," this time he made reply, 
" Seeks but to till with joy your life, 

To soothe your sadness, care relieve, 
To live for you alone, my wife." 

" I like that love," she gently sighed, 
" All passion burns to asli unci smoke ; 

But love like this will never die, 

But heal the hearts that passion broke." 



44 Castles in Spain. 



ZTbc Burial of tbc iberocs of tbc /IDninc. 

No din oJ conflict stirring their blood 
To battle; their country and glory the 

slake ; 
From slumber deep scarce one awake — 

The assassin hurled them into the Hood. 

Although in darkness and stealth they 
were slain, 
We blazon their glory in the light of 

day, 
Ami humbly uncover our hands to the 
clay 
Of our heroes who perished on the battle- 
ship Maine. 



My Debl of Love. 45 



/ID\? TDcbt Of XOVC. 

1 owe thee nothing nay nol so — 
For all I shall be evermore, 

And all 1 am, to thee I owe, 
In contrast with my life before. 

My debt so great thai thou didst live 
Thai life to pay will not suffice, 

My soul, my life, I gladly give : 
Thou taking, make me debtor twice. 

Such love as this lew ever know, 

And none shall know (ill sell be lost, 
The lover's obligations How 

From loving most and giving most. 



46 Castles in Spain. 



Between the Xincs. 

Dear Mary, I was glad to hear 
From you, though brief your note ; 

'Twas good to see your hand, my dear, 
Though few the words you wrote ; 

But somehow, dear, my heart inclines 

To read much more between the lines. 

There is one thing I long to write, 

But, faithful to your lead, 
Will leave my meaning hidden quite, 

So you will have to read, 
Unaided by all written signs, 
Just as I read— between the lines. 



I Sing to Thee Alone. 47 



1F Sino to Ubcc Hlone. 

I care not for the rest that hear 
These simple words of mine, 
If they trill sweetly to thine ear, 

happiness divine. 

I sing alone to thine, my dear, 

1 sing alone to thine. 

And if my theme be sad or gay, 
Or moved by passion free, 

The sympathy thine eyes betray 
Is more than lame to me. 

I sing alone to thee, dear May, 
I sing alone to thee. 



,|(S Castles in Spain. 



ttwo Brofien irctbs. 
Win ) evei guessed she would have pressed 

A man so close (I tell HO libs), 
And e'en SO long, though she is shout;, 

That she could fracture two stout ribs ? 

" He" was so weak he could not speak, 
Much less return the tight embrace ; 

She held him fast, while he did Last, 
Although her ril>s were out <»i place. 

M v g] acious me, ii I'd Itch he, 
l\l summoned back life's ebbing tide ; 

My own i ibs l>i eak while l did make 
All men i«> grudge the way I died. 

Always, I ween, the same is seen 
( )n every side we east our eyes ; 

The besl those steal who cannot feel 
Appreciation of their prize. 



The Child Lovers. 49 



Where the sparkling brooklel Hows, 

Two childish lovers fair 
[nhale the breath <>i sweet wild rose 

I Mil nc on 1 In- drowsy air, 
And dip their bare feel in the stream, 
And dream in silence Love's young dream. 

Their visions bring to each a smile 
Of innocence and Niss, 

I [e holds her hand in his ;i while, 
Then, holder, steals a kiss - 

A kiss ol child love, sweetest flower, 
Thai blooms t<> fade wit Inn the hour. 

In age, when joy <>l hie appears 
I n retrospeel alone, 

While musing o'er I he bygone years, 

Their joys and sorrows llown, 

I can recall no perfeel bliss, 

Except the thrill of that Inst kiss. 
4 



5o Castles in Spain. 



B&oration. 

From the crown of her perfectly molded 
head 
To the tips of her dainty little toes 
This maiden fills Venus with jealous 
dread 
And her wisdom the rule of Minerva 
o'erthrows. 

The beauty of one and the wisdom of 
t'other, 
Too much for the manly heart to with- 
stand, 
Has aroused in mine such a cursed pother, 
That I think I'll escape to some foreign 
land. 



The Rose Immortal. 51 



Ube IRose flmmortal. 

There bloomed in my garden a perfect 
rose, 
That nature had painted her richest 
red ; 
A ruthless wind from the cold north 
blows 
And leaves my sweet flower all shattered 

and dead ; 
But fragrance and beauty it ever will 
shed — 
Transplanted, that rose in my heart still 
grows. 



52 Castles in Spain. 



3c IDOttfi Hlmc. 

" Jk vous aimk," the sweetesl words 
To be found in any tongue, 

" Je vous aime," still sinj^s my heart, 
The song it hath ever sung. 

" Je von:, aime," the only words 
For whispering love complete. 
" Je vous aime," my precious one, 

" I love you," is nol so sweet. 
" lc vous aime," Hie echo replies 

In accents soft and clear. 

" Je vous aime," I'd give the world 
II yours wen: the voice I hear. 

"Je vous aime," 'tis music sweet 

I into my listening ear. 
"Je vous aime" won't you repeat 
These words lor me, my clear? 



The Wanderer's Christmas. £(3 



Uhc Wanderer's Christmas. 

No hope, no cheering hearth, n<> love 
Save thai forbidden bul in thought, 

Whose fruitage, nol ol earth, above 
Self-thought, in sacrifice is sought. 

The Christmas bells then merry * himes 
For happy homes with childi en ring, 

For me, who wander through strange 
climes, 
Instead of joy, they sadness bring. 

() lingering death, loveless life, 
Yet 'twere a coward's a< 1 to end it, 

A fewmore years of fruitless strife 
Then rest when (lod shall send it. 



54 Castles in Spain. 



Kftc Cbarcje of a "nation." 

Full a league, full a league, 
Full a league onward 
Into the dens of hell — 
" Nation," she thundered. 
Forward she went herself, 
Seized bottles from the shelf, 
Threw them around pell-mell — 
Yea, more than six hundred. 

Bottles to the right of her, 
Bottles to the left of her, 
Bottles in front of her, 
Shattered in pieces, fell ; 
Then with her ax she broke, 
Kegs with a single stroke, 
Filled with fresh beer to sell — 
To more than six hundred. 

Flashed high her hatchet bare, 
Slashing the picture there, 



The Charge of a " Nation." 55 

Dressed but in golden hair, 
Which did her eyes annoy, 
For rum and pictures vile 
Made Carrie's blood to bile, 
And she swore to destroy 
Far more than six hundred. 

Now with a few choice bricks 
The mirrors got some nicks, 
Then came the parting kicks 
When " she " made for the door. 
There a policeman stayed, 
But she was not afraid ; 
Battles she would have more — 
Yea, more than six hundred. 

So to the judge she said : 
" By God's will I am led 
To do your work instead, 
And clean out the whole State. 
I see no reason why 
People should sell ' Old Rye,' 
And bring to some sad fate 
Far more than six hundred." 



56 Castles in Spain. 

When can her glory fade ? 
Oh, the wild raid she made 
All the world wondered. 
Honor the raid she made, 
Honor this woman staid — 
More than " the six hundred." 



Papa Nation's Song. 57 



papa IRatfon's Song, 

Bye, O Baby Bunting, 

At home your Ma can't stay ; 

For rum joints she's hunting, 
To drive them all away. 

So to Peoria 

She's gone, to join the press 
Of " Smasher's Mail." Your Ma 

Is now the editress. 

This journal will win fame 
As the champion of negroes, 

And whisky'll be to blame 
For all our earthly woes. 

But go to sleep, dear one, 
You have nothing to fear ; 

E'en though " Ma " must have fun, 
Your Pa is ever here 



58 Castles in Spain. 

To rock you when you sleep, 

And feed you when you wake, 
The house all clean to keep, 
The bread and cakes to bake. 

So Baby take pity 

On your poor old Papa ; 

Don't keep up that ditty, 
But save it for Mama. 



The Cause for Bachelor Maids. 59 



Qfte Cause for Bacbelor jflDatos. 

Saint Valentine, in the days of old, 
Used for love-tokens great bags of gold, 
But now, alas, all the millionaires 
Have taken possession of his wares. 

Then for a dot maidens did not pine, 
As it was brought by Saint Valentine ; 
Now without wealth 'tis often their fate 
To live all alone without e'er a mate. 

And this is the reason why, I fear, 
The weddings grow scarcer every year ; 
So in years to come we plainly see 
How many bachelor maids there'll be. 



6o Castles in Spain. 



jfrienfcsbtp. 

The burden too heavy for one to bear 

Is easily borne by two, 
And happiness doubled if another but 
share 

In the spirit of friendship true. 

Though dark and weary and toilsome the 
way 

When traveled in solitude, 
Beguiled by friendship 'tis light as day, 

And fragrant with flowers all strewed. 

The fever of passion consumeth the soul 
And filleth with anguish the breast, 

But friendship's medicament maketh it 
whole, 
And giveth the tortured heart rest. 



Humanity. 61 



1bumanit£. 

O haughty one, who by thy nod, 

Since thou possessest yellow gold, 
Controllest others as a god, 

Or holdest them like chattels sold ; 
Thy grim contempt of human kind, 

That scorns the thought of brotherhood, 
Shall brand on thee its well-defined 

And hideous similitude — 
The punishment of all thy kind. 

Thou, outwardly, shall take the shape 

Of thy deep-hidden, selfish pride, 
And from thyself shall seek escape, 

In horror seek from self to hide ; 
No human soul to give thee cheer, 

Since thou hast set thyself apart 
For human souls to hate and fear, 

That awful brand distinct and clear. 



62 Castles in Spain. 

Humanity makes common cause 'gainst 
thee and cries, 
" How long ? how long ? " till, by his 
justly moving laws, 
God shall avenge her grievous wrong, 

Usurping greed scourge from her throne 
To servitude and bondage vile, 
And give humanity her own 
Despite infernal force and wile 

Of those whose laugh means others' 
moan. 



Farewell. 63 



tfarewelL 

Farewell, the bosom fearless 
Shrinks not from future cheerless, 

Nor fears to meet the hardest destiny. 
Farewell, no tears revealing 
The hidden depths of feeling, 

That numbing pain that surfers silently. 

Farewell, the call obeying 
Of duty, nor delaying 

Obedience makes even sorrow blest. 
Farewell, a hope unchidden, 
By honor unforbidden, 

Has kissed the face of grief and brought 
her rest. 

Farewell, the word is spoken 
That other hearts has broken, 
And changed the smiling paradise to 
hell, 



64 Castles in Spain. 

But look we for the dawning 
Of brighter, better morning, 

In world, where never more is said 
" Farewell." 



The New Year. 65 



Ube IRew l^ear. 

A royal welcome, Baby Year, 
The first of the century new, 

Yet for the old we drop a tear, 

E'en while we are welcoming you — 

In memory dear of the dead old year, 
Who left us a friendship or two. 

Our hopes are with thee, } r oung one, 
Such hopes as have weathered the blast, 

Of fame this year or fortune won, 
Withheld from us waiting the last, 

Some great task done, last year begun, 
Or planned in our dreams of the past. 

Fair child, there's one at least who prays 
That thou may'st bring less sorrow, 

Bring fewer long and weary days, 

And more like the blessed to-morrow, 

With longing gaze at sunset rays, 

So sweet from the future to borrow. 
5 



66 Castles in Spain. 



Sunrise anfc Sunset. 

Beside my chamber window, just at the 

dawn of day, 
I love to watch the sunshine pierce 

through the clouds of gray, 
Bedecking all the dark earth in fairy robes 

most bright, 
And bringing joy and gladness with his 

soft glowing light. 

Again, when day is over and the hours 

of toil are done, 
I love once more to watch for the setting 

of the sun, 
As in robes of gorgeous splendor he 

seeks his golden nest, 
And bids us cease from labor and the 

weary to find rest. 



He Giveth His Beloved Sleep. 67 



1be <3i\>etb 1feis 3Belove& Sleep, 

" He giveth his beloved sleep." 
Oh, rough and thorny is the way 

O'er mountains high and steep, 
Yet sweet to know at close of day 

" He giveth his beloved sleep." 

" He giveth his beloved sleep." 
When life's great battle's fought, 

The night of death with shadows deep 
Succeeds the day in which we wrought- 

" He giveth his beloved sleep." 

" He giveth his beloved sleep," 
In which forgot are all the wrongs 

That once did make us hopeless weep : 
With slumber soothed by angels' songs- 

" He giveth his beloved sleep." 



68 Castles in Spain. 



%'Hmttie\ 

To call thee friend, indeed were worth 
Far more than all the loves of earth ; 
Nor richer gift seek I, nor ask 
Reward more great, whate'er the task. 

Thy friendship, pure as heaven above— 
The spirit, sanctified, of love — 
Uplifts my soul to regions pure, 
And holds it safe from evil lure. 

Whatever web the Sisters weave 
Concerns me not ; if they but leave 
That treasure only, I am blest, 
Forgetful that I lost the rest. 



Absent, Yet Present. 69 



Bbsent, 12et present 

Alone am I in gayest throng, 

But only then alone ; 
In solitude I hear thy song 

And drink thy liquid tone. 

I see thy face, and hold once more 
Sweet converse, dear, as true 

As when we whispered words of yore 
That breathed our love anew. 

Can separated be two souls 
When knit in love's embrace ? 

Dost think that time the heart controls 
Or knows the spirit space ? 

The sluggish years that roll between 

Bemoan I not, nor fear, 
For they bring near the world dim seen, 

Where all is now, and here. 



70 Castles in Spain. 



TTeacb fl>e t Xittle CMK>. 

little child, do thou teach me 
That I thy simple trust may learn, 

And set my spirit wholly free 

From doubts thy simple faith doth spurn. 

1 would unlearn the fruitless lore 

The years have taught, that I may be 
Instructed from thy wiser store — 
O little child, pray teach thou me. 



The Song of the Season. 71 



Ube Sono of tbe Season, 

The earth is enwrapped in her mantle of 
snow, 
And harshly the rough winds sing ; 
Yet nestling the warm buds are some- 
where below 
And patiently waiting for Spring. 

The maples once green are lifeless and 
bare 
And icicles now to them cling, 
Yet deep in the earth the sap is hid 
there 
To clothe them with leaves in the 
Spring. 

The robins have left us for sunnier clime, 
But still their sweet melodies fling 

To warm winds awaiting with them the 
glad time, 
When they shall return in the Spring. 



J2 Castles in Spain. 

The heart has its winter enshrouded in 
gloom, 
When life seems a valueless thing, 
But buds of new hope are waiting to 
bloom, 
When winter shall melt into Spring. 



The Children of the Tuileries. 73 



ZTbe Cbiloren of tbe Uuileries. 

When dull seem even the Champs 

Elysees 
To heart that pleasure no longer pleases, 
I love to sit on a summer day, 
My forehead fanned by the fragrant 

breezes, 
Well shaded beneath a chestnut tree, 
And watch the merry children play — 
The children dear of the Tuileries. 

The little girls in ribbons bright, 
As lithe and graceful as young deer ; 
The little boys in linen white, 
With eyes from worldly shadows free, 
Shed in my soul a calm delight, — 
The children dear of the Tuileries. 

And often I wonder how many sad, 
Or ennuies, or sorrow laden, 



74 Castles in Spain. 

Or tortured by conscience for deeds that 

were bad, 
Decrepit hag or love-lorn maiden, 
Come here to drink of that childish glee, 
And feel their hearts again made glad 
By the children dear of the Tuileries. 



The Soldier's Farewell. 75 



Qhe Soloier's jfarewelL 

A few short, fleeting, happy hours 
When o'er our lives no shadow lowers, 
When all the sky seems clear and blue 
And little birds sing : " I love you." 

But soon this happiness departs, 
And darkness falls upon our hearts, 
For I am called to go away 
To distant lands the foe to slay. 

Yet, darling, thou wilt ever be 
In the fierce battle close to me, 
For on my heart in death or life 
Is the sweet image of "my wife." 



76 Castles in Spain. 



Brotberboofc* 

Though wealth and power, inebriated, 

drunken 
With brief success of cunning schemes, 
May view, unfeeling, faces shrunken 
And eyes through which fierce hunger 

gleams ; 
And fools despise their fellow-men 
Because of outward circumstance, 
Nor think how quickly wayward chance 
May turn the tables once again ; 

Yet true remains the common heart 
Of the great masses of mankind, 
Unspoiled by wealth or ease, their part 
To labor well with hand or mind, 
Whate'er is theirs of strength or thought, 
That beautiful and firm be wrought — 
The throne of human brotherhood. 



L' Amour Vrai. 77 



%'Hmour \Dval 

Who doubt, love not, nor love can know, 
But those whose faith is strong, 

And, when attacked, does stronger grow ; 
Who, true, can think no wrong. 

Who love for this brief life's span, 

Who love a year, a day, 
Know not love's joy, nor ever can, 

Like those who love for aye. 



78 Castles in Spain. 



ZTbe (Queen's Btrtbfcap. 

Each swift revolving year 

Adds one more jewel to the crown 
Of years and honors dear 

To England as her own renown — 
The crown of queenly Queen, 

Who mightiest empire mildly sways, 
And reigns benign, serene, 

Enthroned where'er a Briton strays. 



To Marie. 79 



Go flDarie. 

Though Fate has cut the slender wire 
That brought thy thought to me, 

In common words, yet charged with fire 
That warmed my heart to thee ; 

Repine I not, for subtle thrill 

That often stirs my mind, 
Somehow convinces me that still 

Thy thoughts of me are kind. 



8o Castles in Spain. 



H?ou %ovc fll>c (mot). 

So troubled is my heart, clear one, 

My muse has halted quite ; 
Though spur and whip do urge her on, 
Remains she still despite. 

The song you wish I've tried to sing, 

Bui cannot sing it well ; 
As waters clear one cannot bring 

From depths of turbid well. 

For in my heart forever true, 
Isone absorbing thought : 

That, though 1 l«>vc and worship you, 
You love, yes, love me Not. 



The Real Santa Glaus. 81 



Cbe IRcal Santa Glaus. 

Beside the glowing fire, in its most theer- 

ful light, 
While Jack Frost decks the earth in a soft 

robe of white, 
We love to sit together, just papa and 

me 
With our dearest heart's treasure, Dickie, 

on my knee. 

Last night as we sat talking of our dear 

friend, St. Nick, 
Tears came to the eyes of my darling 

Baby Dick. 
" Oh, mama," he said, as he tightly held my 

hand, 
" To-day the boys told me there is no 

fairy land, 

11 Nor Santa Claus neither, they say it is 
not true, 



82 Castles in Spain. 

But the one who brings the toys is just 

only you. 
Now I know there's a Santa, for you told 

me so 
And of course a boy's mama, why, she 

ought to know." 

I kissed my precious darling ; wiped 

away the tears 
And said, " You must have faith just as in 

bygone years, 
For surely mama knows more than the 

naughty boys 
Whose parents have to buy them all their 
Christmas toys," 

" Because they've driven Santa Claus out 

of their hearts ; 
But from those who believe in him he 

ne'er departs. 
There are fairies, too, and they whisper in 

your dreams 
And oft send you kisses with the morning 

sunbeams. 



The Real Santa Claus. 83 

11 Why, Santa and the fairies even come to 

me 
And tell me great stories of what you are 

to be ; 
So why should you try to drive Santa 

Claus away 
When, if you love him, in your heart he 

will stay?" 



84 Castles in Spain. 



Ube Sicfe Woll 

Poor Dollie's sick, oh, offle sick, 

So det 'e do'ter, 'illie, q'ick. 

S'e's dot 'e measles, mumps, and 'spepsy, 

And toffs 'e same as ol' An' Hepsy ; 

I tink s'e's dot 'e tolic, too — 

Oh, dea' ! I don' know 'at to do. 

I dave 'er penny'oyal tea, 
An' peppermin' ; an' le' me see — 
'Ess, perrydoric, fo'ty d'ops, 
And 'till 'er 'tryin never 'tops. 
So det 'e do'ter, 'illie, q'ick, 
Fo' Dollie dea' is dreffle sick. 



Christmas Morning. 85 



Cbristmas flftorning. 

Before sunrise I open my eyes, 

Awaked by the shouts of laughter 
And merry noise of scampering boys 

And girls that come skipping after, 
To take a peep, then dive down deep 

For the presents in each chubby stock- 
ing ; 
Their faces alight with the season's de- 
light, 

They all to my bedside come flocking. 

" Oh, mama, just see what Santa brought 
me!" 
The younger ones cry altogether. 
The elder the while with significant smile, 
Glance out for the signs of the weather. 
New skates must be tried, and sleds be- 
side, 
And brightly the day is dawning ; 



86 Castles in Spain. 

My heart is thrilled with the joy that 
filled 
It in childhood on Christmas morning. 

Ye old and worn with conflict torn, 

And shorn of a child's delusion ; 
Oh, banish your care and eagerly share 

The happiness shed in profusion 
By the children sweet in their joy com- 
plete, 

Every year on that day in December, 
Which marks the birth of a happier earth, 

In the birth of the child we remember. 



Pauline's Questions. 87 



Pauline's Questions. 

My mama, she has the queerest way 

Of wearing kid gloves at night, 
And when I asked "Why for ?" she 
said, 
" 'Twas to keep her hands soft and 
white." 

The other day, I heard her say, 

While talking to Miss Susan Brown, 

" That Mister Jones has the softest head 
Of any man in this town." 

This afternoon he came to call 
And asked me to sit on his knee. 

He gave me some candy, saying — 
" Haven't you just one kiss for me ?" 

To pay up for the goodies of course 

I gave him a great bear-hug, 
And felt his round head gently — 

Why, 'twas hard as a vinegar jug. 



88 Castles in Spain. 

" Does my little pet like to feel 

The bald spot on top of my crown ? " 

He laughingly asked as I kept on 
Feeling his head all around. 

" Oh, no, I am only trying to find 

The great soft spot," I said, 
" Cause mama says of all the men 

You have the softest head. 

" Mama, you know, to keep her hands soft 
Wears gloves when she goes to bed, 

Do you wear them too, not on your hands, 
But on the top of your head ? " 

Mama coughed and her face was red, 
While Mister Jones, he seemed quite 
dazed 

Then mama frowned and crossly said — 
My child, why, truly I'm amazed. 

" Leave the room at once and because 
You were rude, you must stay 

With your nurse in the nursery 
For the remainder of the day." 



Pauline's Questions. 89 

Oh, dear me, dearest nursie, won't you 

Tell me whatever I've done 
That I must stay in the house 

And can't have one bit of fun ? 



90 Castles in Spain. 



Oeorae MasbttGtom 

The little children of our land 

Delight to honor Washington, 
Who laid for us with his skilled hand, 
Of our great state the corner stone. 

We love to hear oft told the story 
Of Washington in early youth, 

Whose rectitude foreshadowed glory 
Of manhood swayed by love of truth. 

The courage, fearing but a lie 

Sustained 'midst perils that appall 

And held him ready e'en to die 
If need be at his country's call 

Obedience taught his command 
When destiny called him to lead, 

And brave he led his little band 
'Gainst fearful odds 'till us he freed. 



An Angel of Love. 91 



Hn Hngel of %o\>e. 

IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF LITTLE 
ROBERT MONTGOMERY, OF ERIE, PA., WHO 
DIED JUNE 13, 1901. 

Last summer, when flowers bloomed 

everywhere 
Wafting their perfume through all the 

warm air, 
And little birds sang in the boughs 

above 
That sweetest of songs, the old song of 

" Love." 

There came to us from his home in the 

skies 
A dear little angel with love-lit eyes 
And brought us a gift from Heaven 

above — 
That most precious of gifts, the gift of 

" Love." 



92 Castles in Spain. 

This summer, the flowers bloomed just as 

fair 
And little birds sang with hearts free from 

care, 
But the " Death Angel " came from the 

realms above 
And carried away our sunbeam of " Love." 

But though there's ever a void in my 

breast 
The Comforter whispers, " God knows 

what's best ; 
Up in the blue skies, the clouds far above, 
Dwells your heart's treasure, your "Angel 

of Love." 

" The little darling from pain is at rest 
Waiting for you in " the realms of the 

BLEST," 

Far from the sorrows of this world, above 
In the beautiful home, where all is " Love." 



Mary's Sweetheart. 93 



ZlDarp's Sweetbeart 

Closely to her heart she pressed him 
Without a thought of shame ; 

Kissed him, struggling, and caressed him, 
Nor could I Mary blame, 

Although she was eighteen (could you ?) 

For he was only two. 

Just a little modest yet, 

He oft objects to kisses, 
Pouts his lips in charming pet, 

Unconscious what he misses ; 
But will he always be, think you, 
As shy as when but two ? 



94 Castles in Spain. 



Uo m$ Babies. 

A whoop, a scramble and a rush up the 
stair 
With eyes a sparkle and faces aglow 
To kiss me good morning and play "great 
big bear" 
'Till mama calls them to breakfast below. 

There's Gertrude and John and sweet 

Baby Dick, 

The liveliest trio in all the world wide, 

And if of the darlings I could have my 

pick 

A mighty hard time I'd have to decide. 

For bright little Gertrude I couldn't leave 
out, 
Nor the thoughtful philosopher, John, 
And Dickie— ah me— with his sweet little 
pout 
If I left him behind, I were surely un- 
done. 



To My Babies. 95 

Each one of the dears has a place in my 

heart 

Kept warm by their artless and innocent 

love. 

And somewhat divine unto me they impart, 

Somewhat divine from the angels above. 

God bless the dear children, whose close 
touch with heaven 
Sheds something of kindness and inno- 
cence here, 
Where else naught could be of divinity 
given 
Where else all were dark and dismal 
and drear. 



96 Castles in Spain. 



Greeting 

The winged years relentless speed 
From joys of youth to cares of age 
Yet every June the well loved page 
Of our school-days again we read. 

Some, fortunate, beneath the shade 

Of Alma Mater's classic halls, 

But I afar, whom duty calls, 

Rehearse those scenes that ne'er can fade. 

Of love a greeting, my dear friends, 
While you partake commencement cheer, 
Renew your own commencement year — 
That year so much of romance lends. 

To all our hearts in after years, 
When weary of this humdrum life, 
Dissatisfied with sordid strife, 
We read its lore again with tears. 



Greeting. 97 

Like as the eagle youth renews, 
So may my friends renew their youth. 
The time of love and simple truth, 
The time corroding care eschews. 

Again let noble ardor thrill — 
Ambition boundless as the sea— 
Of what you meant to do and be 
By your unconquered might of will. 

The failures of the past forget, 
And shining angels, fair of hope, 
The palace gates, long shut, may ope, 
Reward with crown your efforts yet. 

O unwise wisdom of the world, 
The folly of advancing years, 
By which the soul is filled with fears 
And youthful hope to earth is hurled, 

Thee we this day abjure, forsake, 
And seek the wisdom of the heart, 
Which early friends and scenes impart ; 
Thy husks we will no more partake. 



98 Castles in Spain. 

But with th' immortals banquet here, 
Where plenty crowns the festal board, 
And Youth and Hope and Love adored 
Are present each successive year. 



A Woman's Power. 99 



H Moman's {power. 

O woman, in protracted hours of ease, 
No wonder that you're always hard to 

please, 
Or that you often ask the question why 
Eternal time for you drags slowly by. 

Then Satan to the adage ever true 
Gives to the idler his own work to do, 
Using her tongue as a means to impart 
To earthly tenants the vile thoughts of his 
heart. 

The frail woman with a tongue thus pos- 
sessed 

Knows nothing of joy, nor comfort, nor 
rest, 

So she takes delight in tearing to tatters 

Her neighbor's name as she idly chatters. 

From far and near are heard the loud 
" crashings " ^ 

LofC. 



ioo Castles in Spain. 

Of Madame's fiendish labial thrashings ; 
As with a loveless heart and empty mind 
She seeks among other things their faults 
to find. 

The poets ever sang in far ancient days 
Of woman's fair form, and woman's sweet 

ways, 
Soothing the sick with her soft gentle 

voice, 
Making the hearts of all men to rejoice. 

As she urged them on to be brave and 

strong — 
To turn to the right away from the wrong, 
Cheering them in victory or defeat 
With the tones of her voice so soft and 

sweet. 

But she, who to others can peace impart 
Must have gentle peace within her own 

heart, 
And know the secret of a happy life 
Free from the venom of all earthly strife, 



A Woman's Power. 101 

From envy and hate her heart must be 

free 
Because she has found occupations three — 
First — she has ever work for her mind, 
Where dwell noble thoughts she can 

always find. 

Next, she uses her muscles to bring good 

health, 
Which far excels all the splendors of 

wealth, 
And last, yet very best work of all, 
She opens her heart to love's own sweet 

call. 

For Life's a blossom of sorrow and joy, 
But the sorrow, in part, we may destroy — 
If we live in the atmosphere of love, 
The brightest gem in the heavens above. 



THE END 



JAN 27 1902 




444 9 m « 1 



